Furby

This toy was invented by someone who has no kids. For sure. Amélie, suddenly, decided she wanted this toy - absolutely must have - shortly before Christmas.

SIGH

I was against it. Completely. Mostly because it looked annoying. Corey had no opinion at this point. We decided to get one for a close friend's daughter instead. Hahahahhaahha. Plus - hello it was on sale and I'm all about a great deal.

I googled Furby because I had to make sure it would come with all required apps and whatever - you know? Turns out they will have all needed torture tools to make this Furby come to life. I also had to google it because Corey and I do not have iPhones. We went crazy and got Samsung phones. Unfortunately, Furby Boom is compatible.

Plus. I love a great deal and seeing a big smile.  So I caved.

The first Furby we tried to get her ended up being spotted by her snoopy little five year old eyes, GAH so we had to put it back and pretend that her brother had been about to buy it for her. THEN I found a different one and got that one without her noticing, but my days of hiding presents in the house are SO OVER.

Wait ... why is this post going so crazy?? Anyways, back to the point - Furby. AKA Day-Doh.

Seriously - who the hell picks out the names for these things. Oh wait. Amelie did. In Furby language that means Powderpuff - or in my language it means annoying-big-eyed-pink-fluffy-creepy-rude toy. At first, it was all fun and games, and then it randomly talks at you while you're cleaning toys.

Oh here's me, tidying the toys. La lalalalala
Furby - Day-Doh Likey!!! (imagine the creepiest voice you can think of)
Me : What ... the ....
Furby - Hubba hubba ....
Me : I'm sorry, you're a kid's toy??
Furby - (farts) and laughs hysterically
Me : 0_0!!!!

I banished the toy to Amélie's room. Forever.

Except. FIVE YEAR OLD POUTY EYES happened. Fiiiinnneee you better feed, water, play with your pet. Here's my phone. After a while, I hear hysterical laughter and the apps for this toy ... I mean seriously, there's a toilet?? And he has hairballs?? GROSS Plus is it a boy or a girl? Our Furby frequently changes voices and we are always trying to decide.

Furbys are also supposed to be interactive and 'learning' toys. I don't mean 'learning' like they teach your kid important life things ... but like they learn from being taken care of and speech from kids. Oh yay. (eye roll) Luckily, Day-Doh doesn't spend much time with William or else the only words our Furby would say are swears and poop. And the occasional little rant about how William is best friends with Uncle Leo. So cute.

Back to creepy Furby. I don't see how it's learning anything yet, but it's only been around a couple weeks. I'm just saying it better learn some manners and some nice, polite words or else it's going to end up shoved at the back of Amélie's closet. 

 With the batteries taken out. Creepier than the Furby's creepy voice pattern, are the creepy voice pattern and the light up eyes staring at you in the dark.

0_0

The Hot Tub

The first thing that comes to mind when I say Hot Tub - is dad's boat that's sitting in the quansit ... it was named Hot Tub.

I resent the hot tub for many reasons.

1. It was an unplanned, spontaneous purchase by my husband.
2. It makes my cats huddle near the door because between the hot tub and the dryer vent there's warmth there.
3. It's obnoxious.
4. My kids keep telling Corey how much they LOOOOOVE him. (as if ...)
5. It's way too hot.
6. I hate the idea of taking care of it and have no idea how to do so.
7. It costs more than what Corey had told me it would cost.
8. If it breaks I'll resent it more.
9. I don't like being hot and cold at the same time.
10. It needs to have water added to it because that jet is no longer relaxing my neck where I get horrible muscle aches from hitting my head on the side door while in labour. Corey seriously - get on that will you?

Okay - 1 good reason for it ... come on ... still resenting over here ...

Shepherd's Pie

FALSE ADVERTISING.

If it has pie in the name, without looking at the recipe, one should be able to assume it needs a pie crust. Usually - I got recipes covered. I do the 'steps'. I read it all the way through, I make sure I have what I need, I prep and then I bake/make. It's the way it's done.

Buuutttt  ....

I was on a roll and wanted to get it done, since it was a special request. So I thought, I'll make the pie crusts first! That way if I screw up, I can try again and I don't have everything sitting here waiting for crusts. I made the pie crusts with some lard I've had for years. Oh yeah baby ... years. ;)

Then, once I was all done, I carefully wax papered the layers and placed them in the fridge, saving two round balls for tops. I sat down proud of my accomplishment and started looking at recipes.

Sidenote : Corey ALSO THOUGHT they needed pie crusts.

Not one single picture had a Shepherd's pie in a crust ... I was dumbfounded. That's right. Dumbfounded.

So. Now I had 4 pie crusts, and two round balls ... and nothing to do with them. SO I made Corey bring home some apples and I made apple pies, and a coconut cream pie and I have one crust left over that I will make chocolate pie with ... or whatever.

2nd sidenote : The shepherd's pie - sans crust - was pretty damned good anyways.

First my shoes ... then my truck ...

I like to go through my texts from time to time because I'm absent-minded lately. I even put things where I'll see them so I don't forget and leave the house without them anyways. Like the photoshoot props I bought just for Nikki. Whatever. I came across a text from our photographer from the end of August and it made me shake my head all over again.

We were meeting in Prince Albert because he was done editing our family images (from mom's 50th birthday party). We were going to meet at Rona. So he asks me where I'm parked and I reply :

Me : I drive a red dodge.

Some time passes and I decide to specify

Me : Truck.

1 minute passes

Me : What do you drive?

That way there's two of us looking right? Of course. Totally logical.

Suddenly ... something occurs to me. My truck isn't red.

Me : I mean TAN!!! AHAHAHAHA

Some more time passes ....

... and he calls ... as he's walking by ....

and I realize my truck isn't tan either. It's silver.

You're welcome.

And .... where's my shoes???

Just imagine a looong exasperated sigh here.

All I was doing was dropping off some Scentsy and some chocolate. I mean ... it was easy, run in - drop it off - stare at everyone - leave.

This is what happened.

I parked the truck, sorta. Madison had to go pee so we argued about the etiquette of borrowing someone's bathroom - she won. We got out of the vehicle and stepped inside. Maddie asked to borrow the washroom, no problem. I took off my shoes not sure how far we were going, turns out not that far.

I commented how big the girls were and chatted about some other thing. Handed over the chocolate, she smelled the bars - nothing happened in the right order here. Whatever.

She commented something and I randomly replied, only now realizing that I may have replied in a completely erroneous way and off-topic because she kind of laughed like 'this one is a crazy lady'. Then Maddie was back and gone and I said thanks and enjoy and I left.

I only noticed when I got down the steps that I didn't have my shoes. Seriously? O-O.

I went back to the house and opened the door.

"I forgot my shoes."

She probably gets that all the time.

Anxiety

Anxiety is a very, very scary place to be. I call it a place because it felt like a place. Like a scary, maze and I kept hitting these dead ends. Scary and dark and really terrifying. I've been worried about things before, but there's a difference between being worried and having anxiety.




I've always been 'worried' or 'concerned' about things, and people have told me I'm 'too worried' and need to relax more. I wonder if they realize that those words aren't helpful in any way, shape, or form. I'm kind of getting off topic here, but I think it's worse when I'm yelling at my kids or something and someone else chimes in ... like really??

Anywalruses .... where was I ... oh yes the dark scary place that we call anxiety.

It's dark. Scary. And there isn't much oxygen there.

Anxiety, for me, took a normal mole and progressed it into melanoma. It took a mole that I'd had possibly my whole life ... and made it into something it wasn't. I got so bad that I had it removed. I got so bad that I woke my husband in the middle of the night and cried and cried and cried. I couldn't breathe and I was restless. I couldn't lie down because I couldn't breathe and I was restless and exhausted.

Eventually, he got me calm and reassured me enough that I just 'let it go' and was able to sleep. I saw two doctors for two opinions (conflicting opinions I might add) about my mole and I had it removed and sent away and then spent 3 weeks waiting for results. THREE. WEEKS of anxiety. Not as bad as before because I was smart - and I spoke to our homeopath and she told me in no uncertain terms was I ever to cut anything out again without talking to her. She reassured me, confidently, that if it was melanoma we would deal with it promptly and she was so confident that I felt my stress melting away.

I had post partum before ... with Amelie and so my husband said he was pretty sure I had it again. I had a great birth but it seems that hormones have a way of throwing a person into a whole new world. I wasn't expecting post partum anxiety ...

My mole results came back benign and I was so relieved I cried.

I started reaching out, gently to people that might know what I'm feeling. Or ... we bumped into the conversation - regardless it would seem that the people I need to be around are falling into my life and I'm very grateful for them. I'm going to grab all the tools and people and feelings I need to cushion myself because that place of anxiety is not somewhere I want to revisit ever. again. I

know I'm feeling better ... because I started cleaning my house - like really cleaning it. You know the kind of cleaning that requires you to make a disaster zone first? That kind. And that's a good thing.

Nicole Hannah Marie Linfitt

Nikki 's birth story
May 4th/2013 @11:18 am
9lbs 2ounces
23 inches long

Well ... I was going to do a detailed birth story but ... we'll see what happens.

The two nights before Nikki was born I googled acupressure and reflexology to induce labor ... just ... I did okay. Just nevermind.

On the 4th early in the morning, I felt contractions ... sorta ... then Corey left for work and at 5:30 I called him to let him know that yep they were contractions and nope I wasn't kidding. Apparently he'd just sat down for a coffee. Mom got to the house by 6:30 am and we were on our way.

The contractions were ... you know ... contractions and I'd never had 'front' contractions before so it was a little weird - very little back labor until (dramatic music)

Some old people cut Corey off in Saskatoon and I slammed head first into the side of the truck. I thought I was dead/dying/broken .... never going to survive, etc ... Amazingly enough, as I listened to Corey repeatedly ask me if I was okay in a rather panicky voice, I kept my cool and slowly assessed the damage. I didn't move for a few seconds while I waited to see if there was sharp/shooting pains or numbness anywhere ... since there wasn't I slowly backed up and moved my limbs one at a time. By this point my labor had nearly stopped. Yikes. 0_o. But I was okay.

When we got to Lisa's contractions were quite spaced but I was glad to get up and out and really assess myself. Other than a very beautiful bruise on my forehead and one just under my eye I was stunned really. I didn't feel dizzy or even have a headache and I was completely aware of every achy part ...

I got into the tub - that was already bubbling and waiting for me (oh yes) and there was soft music playing (heart beat sounds I believe) and it was very peaceful. I needed to calm down. Shortly after we got there, our sweet doula Dionne got there ... now things will come randomly as I write them down so ... sorry if it makes no sense lol.

This was Dionne's first birth so considering she had me as a birthing mama, I think she did splendid at taking direction. Ice was put on my forehead and I went into a zen zone where I sat and calmly mentally reassured baby that everything was okay and contractions could start up again. They did ... rather quickly actually.

Sometime the midwife got there, checked baby's heartbeat - wasn't right away. Baby's heartbeat was quite high ... now ... I thought someone had told her about me hitting my head but nobody did so she was concerned. I did want to get out of the tub anyways so I got out and the heartbeat came down after a little bit and stayed very steady - still a bit on the higher side but nice and steady.

Labor ... was all in the back now and because I'd hurt my neck (strained) it was unreasonably painful lol. For realz. At this point, I was SO DONE having kids - and still am ... ;) There wasn't much that could be done to alleviate this pain. I eventually asked to be checked and I was 5 cm ... I asked again later and I wanted my water broken because I was in SO MUCH crazy pants pain but she couldn't break it ... it ended up breaking on it's on. I was that far gone which ... I should have realized.

I even labored on my back for a bit - it felt ... pretty awesome actually. I'm thinking baby was maneuvering at this point because then I suddenly wanted to be up (and done) so I got up and labored with the birthing ball. I didn't get the SUDDEN urge to push like William, in fact ... I kind of tried to push a time or two and the 2nd time it just kind of suddenly was like oohhhhh you want the baby ooouuuttt ... and my body caught on.

Baby decided to come out with her 'adorable' hands close to her face so as she was coming out - she did so incredibly slowly. There was a point I thought her shoulders were coming out ... but ... nope ... it was just the crowning of her head. Then there was another point like that and nope just her forehead (like seriously). My amazing team coached me through so perfectly that she came out nice and slow with no explosive perineum or anything lol. PHEW. It gave a whole knew meaning to 'blow it out' and 'don't push'. Like seriously. Best coaching ever.

Finally, when the midwife could see her hands she realized the baby wasn't stuck - oh ps she totally wasn't stuck but nobody bothered to ask me and I was facing the wrong way to really know that anyone was applying gentle pressure to my baby.

Then at 11:18 am Nikki made her grande appearance to a rather stunned (and somewhat emotional) room of women - oh and Corey was there. I felt great actually and turned around and snapped my baby right out of the midwife's hands lol. I was pretty energized, checking her out, totally in the zone.

Once the cord stopped pulsing I allowed them to cut the cord and we snuggled and I was all happy and then I let them weigh her and she was 9lbs 2 ounces .. I MAY have been the only one not surprised in the room. I did tell everyone she would likely be 9lbs ... so I'm just sayin' ...

It was pretty awesome and also - I'm done with having babies. Like WHO DOES THAT so many times???

I need a chiropractor ... and a massage ... and so does Nikki.

PS What ... afterbirth pains ... I think people need to be more serious about warning other moms about that ... as I crawled to the bathroom certain I was dying on day 3 and phoning my midwife and having her manage not to laugh but to reassure me all was well.

So. done.

If you want other details/more details placenta details ... how I almost got into a major fight with the midwives about the management of my placenta ... yeah you'll have to message me lol. ;) Or I might get another post up on another night when Nikki goes to bed like a good girl.